CHAPTER 16
I looked round the room, remembering Elf’s words.

‘Marlene won’t allow face coverings, after the Admiral Duncan bombing. No furries, no puppy boys, but everyone else, aye? Safe space’

Safe space.

“What can you offer, Lil?”

“Careful who you say that to, woman. What’s your usual poison?”

“Ale for me, usually. And I’m Jen”

“Then we have a selection. Butty Bach, Exmoor Gold, T.E.A. Usual Skull Attack, Pedigree and Wadnam’s”

“6X?”

“Of course. Oh, and a New Forest one, Old Thumper”

“What’s that one like?”

“Chunky. Five point six ABV”

“A starter, then, not a session ale”

“Fancy a taste?”

That was unusual indeed, for in my limited experience of pink pubs, it had been more of a ‘squirt-ta-who’s next’ from the bar staff. She served me half an inch as a taster, and it wasn’t as dark as I had expected, but nice and chunky in flavour, as Lil had suggested.

“Pint of that, then, please”

She pulled, showing clear experience, and handed me a glass almost devoid of head, the sensible woman, and a third of it went down rather well.

“Want the verbal Cook’s tour, Jen?”

“Go on. I’m all ears”

“Clearly untrue, the way you necked that. Right: that’s Marlene. Her place, aye? Don’t piss her off if you want to live. This bar is a sort of general space, where we have the quiz, tonight’s karaoke, that sort of thing. Down the entry hall to the left is what used to be the function room---this was a Victorian hotel. That is now the disco. There’s a chill-out room next to the disco; no bar, just water fountains. Through that archway is a small bar for a sort of lounge, and on the other side of that is the kiddy’s room. Nothing but keg fizz and tart fuel served there; usually full of twinks and babydykes”

“Sorry?”

“Skinny young men, and girls just finding out who they really fancy. You, well, sorry: bit personal. We have no problems here with trans people”

Yet again, bugger it. I sighed, and began the rote explanation, and it actually brought a blush, so I added, “But I already know I’m gay. That do you?”

She perked up again, just as the queen, Marlene, leant over the bar and added, “We are open to straights as well, love, as long as they remember whose fucking place it is, apart from mine, of course. Where are you from, and who pointed you this way?”

“I’m from up by Tonypandy. Moved down here for work. It was someone working door security--- I’ll start that again. I’m a paramedic. We get called out to a lot of pubs, for obvious reasons, so it makes sense to keep in with the door staff”

“Which pub were you at? And was it for work?”

“Yup. First time there was for a bottling where the bottle didn’t, just stayed intact. Place called Man in the Moon”

“That the festering shithole out by Beddau?”

“That’s the one”

Lil grunted.

“Their cellarman needs bloody shooting”

“Play nicely, Lil darling, or I shall withdraw your chocolate again. And your cheese strings”

“No! Not the cheese strings! I’ll be good! Promise!”

“Fuck off and serve that twink. Who recommended us, Jen?”

I hadn’t told her my name, but she had picked it up; one frighteningly sharp woman, queen, whatever.

“Woman called Elf”

Lil called across, “One of the Satanic Kitten Eaters”

Marlene just nodded once, then lowered her voice.

“You are really new to this place, Jen, but a little bit of free and gratis advice: Elf and her people are not anyone you would wish to upset. Think of her as a live hand grenade. With the pin out. Given your job, keeping a little distance might be wise. Think Hell’s Angels for an idea. Not saying stay away; just be sure your eyes are open to who she is, WHAT she is, and remember that her club comes first. Always”

She straightened up again, her voice rising.

“Mary!”

A skinny man looked around from the arch Lil had mentioned.

“Marlene?”

“Go and tell the DJ to let people know that karaoke is going live in ten minutes, so they can get their fucking arses and voices round here sharpish”

“In those words?”

She raised a stupendously high eyebrow.

“Of course. Could anyone POSSIBLY improve on the way Moi phrases it?”

I settled on a bar stool as Leather Jacket Woman folded her newspaper and headed for the exit, and in between patrons Lil simply leant on her side of the bar as the two of us criticised a steady flow of self-proclaimed singers, of varying levels of lack of talent. There was one moment of hilarity, when even Marlene looked surprised.

“I didn’t even know the next song was on the system! Congratulations in advance for your taste and utter depravity, whoever you are. So, step up Tiger!”

An amazingly tall man, bright ginger mane and beard with a dusting of sparkles, stepped up to the mike, and in a vibrant tenor sang the opening line.

“Spring is here…”

It was bright and breezy. It was about enjoying a spring day in the park. It was about poisoning pigeons. It was about cyanide and strychnine, and pulses that were quickenin’.

I was in shock when he finished, but applauded madly, as he bowed and said, “Thank you, and I have sort of been Tom Lehrer”

Marlene was doing her best not to corpse, but it was a losing battle, and she ended up having to take a few moments before speaking again.

“Right, you fuckers. My turn, and then whoever has the brass neck to ask for ‘Ace of Spades’. Ready?”

Her song was ‘My Way’, sort of, but I suspect Sinatra would have run screaming if presented with the lyrics Marlene used. She finished with a surprisingly tuneful “I sucked it Myyyyyyy Wayyyyyyy!” and bowed her head, before adding. “Right, ‘Ace of Spades’, and don’t be Filthy, that’s my job, and Lemmy’s the singer, not Phil”

The kindest word I could find for that performance was ‘incoherent’. Ah well: karaoke is as karaoke does, or something. Both Marlene and Lil had a nice line in caustic comments, but the latter kept hers just about loud enough for me to hear, while her boss was in full skin-stripping mode, as tradition entailed. I’d moved onto T.E.A. after that heavy first pint, so I wasn’t wrecked, but had a pleasant buzz on.

“Where are you staying, Jen?”

“Nurses’ hostel, by St Dai’s”

“How are you getting home? No, not a come-on. Just that we run a minibus taxi for dirty stopouts, for safety. I can check where it’s booked for tonight”

Elf’s words came back to me, the ones about safe spaces. Lil read my mind.

“She’s had the heebies, sort of, since the Duncan bombing. I get the idea she had some shit as a kid, but that bastard’s little game got to her, and then a lot of our little boys are a bit too easy to spot, especially when they’ve had a drink. Even the bottom of St Mary’s has two, count ‘em, two cheap swill-till-you-puke pubs. It can get more than a little nasty there at closing time, and being so close to the station simply makes it worse. I’ll check with the boss, but don’t stick your neck out unless you have to”

She suddenly laughed, which was something I enjoyed seeing, as she was so utterly open as a person.

“And that bit about a come-on? That wasn’t meant to be rude, but, well, I go… Shit. I’m a bit vanilla in my tastes, aye? Prefer more typically feminins women. Sorry if that came out snide”

“Not a problem, Lil, and it’s much the same for me, to be honest2

Another laugh, and then the grin that was clearly her trademark.

“So we’re basically safe from each other, then? Sound! Elf is going to be pissed off”

I had another Old Thumper, just to finish the evening off, and possibly a few brain cells.

The next set of shifts were days, once again with Angie, so we were back into taxi mode, including the slightly more technical runs transferring dialysis patients for their rinse-and-oil-changes. We also did more District Nurse call-outs, including one where a particularly stubborn old man had been trying to treat a glass cut in his foot with Jeyes Fluid disinfectant baths right up until the point where his blanket had shifted, Hira had caught sight of an ankle, and we were called to run in a rather advanced case of sepsis, all the way up to the man’s groin.

“I didn’t want to be a burden…”, oh for fuck’s sake. I mean, there’s a bloody statue to Nye Bevan on Queen Street. We got him in the red entrance, and the first thing the Casualty nurse did was plug in some serious I.V. analgaesia for what must have been hell’s own headache.

That weekend brought us something almost as bad as the lady in the bath, but in a different way. Hira again, and she met us outside the house for some reason, which became clear when a police car pulled up, followed by the on-call doctor’s car. Hira’s response to my raised eyebrows was a slow, resigned nod, and then the account to the doctor and a hovering plod.

“Routine scheduled support visit. My patient is Geraint Iorwerth Williams, born February fifteenth, nineteen twenty nine. He suffers--- He suffered from sleep apnoea, so regularly fell asleep during the day. Accordingly, I was given a key for access during my care visits. I entered the house at half past ten to find him in his usual armchair, apparently asleep. His dog appears not to have been fed. When I tried to wake him, he was unresponsive, and when I checked for a pulse, it was absent and his body was cold to the touch. Given the evidence of lividity in his lower legs and feet, I suggest he has been dead for some time, and for that reason made no attempt at resuscitation”

The copper obviously picked up on the word ‘dog’, so he got a sigh.

“Utterly harmless, Officer. I’ve fed her, anyway”

In went Doc and Plod, and Angie and I readied the trolley and a blanket. No rush, not now, not ever again. The doctor finished his paperwork, we loaded the former Mr Geraint Iorwerth Williams, and set off for the morgue, just as the RSPCA van turned up. Not a single neighbour came over to say goodbye

“What’ll they do with his dog, Angie?”

“RSPCA will sort it, Jen. Probably put it down after a fortnight or so”

“Oh, shit”

“Way of the world, woman. Way of the world”

That Friday saw us on late turn again, and as if drawn there by magnets we were back out at the Moon, this time for another fight where someone had decided that broken glass was an attractive route to fulfilment. It was a pint glass that time, and in smashing it to use as a weapon, Mr Thuggy Wanker had merely cut his own hand open, only just avoiding the arteries in his right wrist. We patched him up, Mr Plod rode with him in their van to Casualty at St Dai’s, and Elf grinned at me, which went straight past my ‘cheer Jen up’ button.

“You okay, girl?”

“Heavy week, Elf. Morgue trip”

“Ah. Elderly?”

“Yup. Could have been asleep, if it wasn’t for the lividity marks. Blood sinks to the lowest point, post-mortem”

“How old?”

“It’s never old enough, whatever age, Elf. Little dog there; nurse fed it, but the RSPCA have it now”

“Ah shit; they’ll just put it to sleep after a few days. What’s the dog’s name?”

“Goldie, I believe. Sort of mini Staffy bitch, soft as butter. Why?”

“I’m a dog breeder, girl. Bull terriers. I can squeeze an old girl in; I’ll give them a ring tomorrow”

Suddenly, she was laughing, and felt the need to explain.

“Just what I said, aye? But I prefer squeezing young girls, of course!”

I gave her a Paddington, but couldn’t hold back my own grin, remembering that chat with Lil.

“I followed your advice, by the way. The Smugglers”

“Lil still working there? My sort of woman, Lil”

“I suspect she fancies, well…”

“Oh, I bloody know that! All skirt and hair, her lust objects. Real pity that… Ah. That’ll be you the same, then?”

“Er, yeah. Sorry”

“Ah, dim ots. Don’t ask, you don’t get. I’ll—shit. Um… Can you get your driver to hang on? Sounds like you’ve got more trade inside”

I let the remaining coppers go in first, as I am far from stupid, and then things got very, very busy indeed, and I got my first patient-inflicted black eye.